


Campside

by JazzRaft



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 11:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: Nyx did not like being ignored. Especially not after he’d taken great pains to be as much of a nuisance to the Marshal as he was capable of being.





	Campside

**Author's Note:**

> written for #4 off of [winter prompts](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/169400054939/winter-prompts)

So…

This was new.

This was a _treat,_ the way some of his colleagues were murmuring about it.

Personally? He felt like it was more of a _threat._

Leonis prowled the fringes of the campsite as menacingly as his namesake. His shadow was as black as the death that he mocked every day by bearing the moniker of “Immortal.” Nyx couldn’t tell if he was angry or just restless – or a little too paranoid about maintaining a secure perimeter. Try as he might, Nyx couldn’t get a proper read on the Marshal, nor his motives for being there.

Drautos had given them at least a day’s worth of warning that the Commander of the Crownsguard would be assisting on the next mission. (While it was ample enough time for the surprise to wear off, the captain hardly looked like he was used to the idea himself when he reported the addendum to the out-going roster.) Most of the Kingsglaive took to the news well enough, setting aside any long-standing Crownsguard prejudices and actually looking forward to seeing Lucis’s best fighter in action.

“Who knows?” Crowe had teased, punching Nyx in the shoulder. “Maybe some schooling from the Immortal will humble our Hero.”

He’d laughed then, but Nyx was wary now, watching their esteemed guest between the gnashing red teeth of the campfire. Through the darkness on the other side, he caught the occasional blue spark of the Marshal’s glare between the flames. The look was more pronounced every time the wood split and hissed or the sparks snapped at the chill night air. Nyx wasn’t sure what was annoying him more: the damning sound of the fire, or the man that had tended it to life in the first place. He sincerely hoped it was the latter, grinning to himself as he held his hands out to the warmth. He’d be awfully flattered if that was the case.

“Don’t go taking the full night’s watch again, y’hear?” Libertus yawned beside him, bracing a hand against Nyx’s shoulder to stand. “Wake me up for my shift. Don’t go stealing my thunder when I’ve got to impress our esteemed guest.”

He wasn’t subtle about the sarcasm, with the subject of it just within earshot. If Leonis heard, he didn’t show it. His steady, loping steps finally stilled though, deeming their defenses sturdy enough without his constant attention to keep them that way. He stood with his back to the fire, feet firmly apart, arms crossed against his chest, no doubt offering the same glare he’d been scathing Nyx with, out into the open dark.

Libertus rolled his eyes and stifled another yawn. He pointed at Nyx on his retreat to the tent, pinioning him with a stern glare – everyone was glaring at him tonight, Six. “Do _not_ let me sleep.”

“Fine, fine. But I get creative license on _how_ I wake you up.”

Libertus groaned, shaking his head and batting at the air between them in good night. He didn’t have the energy to dread what was in store for him.

It was just him and Cor, the Immortal. Quite humbling company, indeed. And quite quiet.

Nyx waited until Libs’s rustling in the tent settled before rising to his feet. To approach a lion was to invite immediate mauling unto oneself. Between all of his brushes with the predators that roamed the dense wilds of Galahd in his adolescence, Nyx had become very familiar with the laws of nature… Didn’t mean he always abided by them.

“Nice view, huh?”

Cavaugh crawled with Imperial airships across the strait, so far away that they could have been buzzing black flies against the last, pale fingers of sunset. The barren cliffs edging Insomnia rolled down beneath them to tumble and crash against the distant shore, a glittering silver string drawn taught between two contesting territories. Cavaugh was like a black eye on Lucis, a great bruise beyond the Wall that would never truly heal. Not unless they purged the maggots gnawing away at that old wound.

Leonis said nothing, standing stalwart and sentinel amidst dusk’s collapse. _The strong and silent type, huh? Alright._ While Nyx wasn’t entirely averse to silence, he _did_ take issue with being ignored. _Especially_ after he’d taken great pains to be as much of a nuisance to the Marshal as he was capable of being all afternoon. He continued with that crusade by mimicking the crossed arms and the pensive look on his face, pouting up at the stars winking open as night further blackened overhead.

For a long time, it was just the clouds of their breath and the fire at their backs between them. The first of winter’s frost was starting to settle against the plateau underfoot. It was cold, but not as biting as Cor’s first words to him all evening.

“You don’t seem to be taking this seriously.”

The Immortal’s voice rolled between them like distant thunder, harsh, yet on the horizon. Safe enough to listen without running for cover just yet.

“It’s the night watch, what more do you expect?” Nyx snorted.

“ _This_ isn’t what I mean.” His glare switched to him like the flash of a blade. “I mean all of this. The Kingsglaive. Your disregard for the orders given to you by a commanding officer nearly cost us two lives today.”

It was Nyx’s turn to glare, meeting the man’s stare like a clash of steel. Tredd had been in trouble – in over his head as ever – taking a pummeling from the Empire’s daemons so that Pelna didn’t have to. Someone had to keep that carrot-top from becoming a shish-kebab for his good intentions.

“With all due respect,” – and yes, he meant that to sound as much like the “fuck you” as it did – “not all of us have the luxury of immortality to keep us alive out there. We came back with _no_ losses instead of one.”

“We could have come back with two.”

“Well, you came back with two somethings,” Nyx growled, then gestured down at the shadows pooled between the rocks. “We can go back out there and get lost, if you would prefer. You really want two losses? Then, let’s go. You and me. Ready whenever you are.”

He could cut behemoth flesh with how thick the silence was between them. That, or Cor just might cut him for the insolence. Better to suffer that demise himself than be shamed for saving someone else from one.

To his surprise, he _wasn’t_ slapped with discharge papers for suggesting he take the Commander of the Crownsguard down beneath the cliffs on a suicide mission. Instead, he was given a slow blink, a snort of gray plumes in the cold air, and the barest minimum of what might have qualified as something akin to praise.

“I suppose that it would be too much to hope for the rest of your colleagues to share that philosophy.”

“You’d have to ask them. But I like to think I’m not the most special snowflake in that storm.”

Nyx ventured a smile, confident in his comrades. He knew that if it was him underneath the blades of an MT squadron, Libertus would fight tooth and nail for him, no matter how much complaining he did along the way. And Crowe would take down an airship in a firestorm if it ever dared to blast at him.

While Cor didn’t smile back – Nyx had a feeling his scowl was stuck like that – he conceded the point with a curt sigh. “You could still do with a lesson or two of tact, Ulric,” he grumbled.

“This coming from the same guy who volunteered to fight the Blademaster when not even the King’s Shield thought it was a sane idea? Might want to take a step down from that soap box, Commander. Because the way I hear it, you were a little lightning bolt yourself back in the day.”

It didn’t get him a laugh or a smile or eye contact that didn’t bleed with eternal exasperation, but Nyx would settle for the tiny, flat-lipped twitch at the corner of his mouth. It felt less like a threat than it did when they set out. It looked more like accomplishment. Like he’d found what he’d set out to when he invited himself onto this mission.

Nyx grinned. He hoped that it was worth the trip.

**Author's Note:**

> also on [tumblr](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/169751891557/nyxcor-4-for-the-winter-prompts-wine-dad-says)


End file.
